Isarwien's secret
by Mirelena Isarwien
Summary: Isarwien is an elven maiden with a secret that only Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn and Haldir know about. She aids the fellowship at different points in their quest....using powers even she didn't know she had. PLEASE read and review...it means alot
1. Silently watching

Isarwien watched silently, a mysterious figure cloaked in dark green velvet intricately embroidered with delicate elven designs and mounted upon a jet- black horse, high upon a hill. The great mass of Uruk-hai marched steadily in their direction, their black banners whipping about in the fierce wind. A few loose strands of her long fair hair escaped the confinements of the large hood and blew about her face as she backed her horse, Araniel, behind a large rock face, out of sight from the approaching army. "We must make haste." The elven maiden whispered gently to her steed, friend, and companion, before turning and galloping away, headed for the fortress of Helm's Deep where Théoden, King of Rohan, had led his people, seemingly to safety. 


	2. Author's Note Disclaimer

Okay, I was meant to put this at the start of the first chapter..but I forgot - I suppose it doesn't matter seeing as the only thing I don't own in the chapter is the Uruk-hai. Araniel and Isarwien are my own - I think. I don't own Tolkein, LOTR, Legolas, Aragorn, etc etc etc - though I wouldn't mind owning a certain tall, blonde haired, pointy-eared, bow - twanger prince!! Anyway. 


	3. Unexpected Arrivals

Chapter Two - Unexpected Arrivals  
  
Aragorn looked out over the land before him, as he stood upon the Deeping Wall. He knew something was amiss, yet he did not know the source of such sense of danger. Yet, amongst the fear of not knowing, was hope, but again he did not know it's foundation. His eyes scanned the plains calmly and thoroughly, before coming to rest upon the figures of a black horse, and a dark rider, not so far away in the distance. His eyesight, even though not of elven standard, was good enough for him to make out the distinguishable pure white streak that ran down the nose of the horse. It was Araniel, Princess of the Mearas. Aragorn immediately felt a wave of joy pass through him as he realised whom the mysterious rider was.  
  
Isarwien. She was Araniel's master and no other was able to ride her, for she threw them off before they were even mounted. Aragorn let a hint of a smile pass his lips as he watched for a moment longer, before hurrying down to meet the pair as they arrived through the gates of the fortress.  
  
Isarwien rode into Helm's Deep upon Araniel, her large dark hood still covering her face in shadow. A crowd had begun to gather, formed by inquisitive people of Rohan, wondering at the mysterious visitors that had just ridden into their safe haven. They knew not what to make of them; were they friend or foe?  
  
Isarwien gracefully dismounted, the hem of the cloak falling gently about the floor as she landed softly and soundlessly on the stone ground. She stroked Araniel's mane tenderly and muttered a few words in the common language, pleading with her to behave for the guard that had come to take the creature to the stables. As one of the Maeras, Araniel was a noble horse, with extraordinary intelligence and strength and could understand the common tongue of Men. Araniel obeyed her master and, though reluctantly and to her displeasure, was taken to the stables where she found fellow horses, Brego and Arod.  
  
Aragorn made his way through the crowd, watching Isarwien as she looked around the fortress, as though looking for something or someone. He had known the elven maiden all his life, for she was his sister - though foster be it -, best friend and he cared deeply for her. Though through his joy, was a curiosity. Why was she at Helm's Deep, when she should be safe in Rivendell with her father, Lord Elrond?  
  
"Isarwien!" He exclaimed, causing the figure to turn and face him. Though he could not see it, he knew she was smiling and they moved quickly towards one another, meeting in a tight embrace. Isarwien pulled away and removed the hood from her head, revealing her beautiful elven features.  
  
The people of Rohan surrounding the pair gasped in amazement at the sight before them. The majority, whom had never before seen a female elf, marvelled at her beauty, and those that had, compared her with those they had seen. She was like no other. Her fair hair was so light it was almost white and was drawn back into a loose plait with a few loose strands falling about her face. She possessed unblemished and unmarred lightly bronzed skin and had intelligent, clear, sparkling silver eyes that betrayed a proud demeanour. It was these that everyone's attention was drawn to - never before had they seen anyone own such amazing, yet extraordinary eyes. The elven maiden held herself with such grace and elegance that not even her own kin could match and the women of Rohan found themselves yearning to be more like the lady stood before them.  
  
"Aragorn, cormamin lindua ele lle." Isarwien told her best friend, smiling at the man before her, their hands still joined. Aragorn smiled warmly before asking, "Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Isarwien sighed, her eyes giving away that she had come with ill news to Helm's Deep. "Where is the King?" She requested, looking around at the crowd that was still growing. There were men, women and children and soldiers alike, all gathering to watch the pair as they spoke. She did not want them to hear the grave news, which would surely send them into panic and fright. Aragorn looked back at the throne room, before leading the elven maiden through the crowd and to the King who, at that moment, was discussing war with his guards, Legolas and Gimli. 


	4. Ill news and Arguments

Thanks to everyone that reviewed the first part of my story!!! I really appreciate it!  
  
Anilmathiel: Thanks, it's my first time that I've written a fanfiction and decided to put it onto the web - before I've had loads of ideas, but never gotten any further than the beginning. I suppose I just need the encouragement to keep going * grins *  
  
Dunthonwen: I * should * hopefully get more into the story soon.  
  
Alina11: Thanks - it should become more interesting..I hope  
  
Coolio02 and Hold Me Up: Thanks, and here's some more..  
  
Pearls: Thanks for the advice - I've changed it now so I can accept anonymous reviews. Oh, and the chapters should get longer - the first two were relatively short because it seemed like a good idea to cut them off at the those points because I didn't want to describe the journey to Helm's Deep, or Aragorn leading Isarwien to the King. Yep, you're right about the romance. How ever did you guess?!!!  
  
Again.. this should've been at the beginning of the first chapter but the forgetful person that I am - I forgot.  
  
Title: Isarwien's Secret  
  
Author: Mirelena Isarwien  
  
Summary: Isarwien is an elven maiden with a secret that only Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn and Haldir know about. She aids the fellowship at different points in their quest.... using powers even she didn't know she had. Rating: PG - just in case  
  
Disclaimer - LOTR is not mine..it never has been and never will be  
  
Genre - Romance/Action/Adventure  
  
I own: Isarwien, Araniel..at the moment  
  
Notes: There will be more characters that I own and the storyline should develop relatively soon - but the next few chapters will be at Helm's Deep and in them Isarwien's relationships with the various characters will become clearer.I hope. And Aragorn, on his way back from falling off the cliff, didn't see the army of Uruk-hai heading towards Helm's Deep.because it wouldn't work otherwise.  
  
To anyone else who's reading this.I'd be lucky.. please read and review. That way I can make changes that need making and try to improve the story as best I can - without you telling me, I don't know what I'm doing wrong  
  
Thanks.again.  
  
~*~Mirelena Isarwien~*~  
  
~*~ ~**~*~**~ ~*~  
  
Chapter Three - Ill News and Arguments  
  
Legolas looked at the heavy door of the throne room as they were pushed open revealing Aragorn who, a little while earlier, had left to take a walk and think to himself. Stood beside his friend was the elf maiden who he had come to know so well, and love dearly with all his heart. He would do anything for her. It took all of his strength to refrain himself from rushing to Isarwien and meeting her in a tight embrace, capturing her lips with his. Legolas watched intently as Isarwien approached the King, the bottom of her opulent cloak swishing as it moved along the floor, and curtseyed slightly as a sign of respect.  
  
"My Lord, this is Lady Isarwien, daughter of Lord Elrond Halfelven of Rivendell." Aragorn introduced the she-elf, and his best friend, to the King of Rohan before moving aside and standing with Legolas and Gimli.  
  
"My Lord, I come to you bearing ill news. As I speak, there is a ten thousand strong army of Uruk-hai, bearing the white hand of Sauruman, marching towards Helm's Deep. I have seen it." Isarwien delivered her news calmly, locking eyes with the King to show him she was telling the uttermost truth.  
  
"Ten thousand?!" Théoden muttered, shocked by the ill news he had received. He was expected a battle, but not one on this magnitude.  
  
"Sire, you must prepare for battle. They will be here by nightfall." Isarwien continued gently.  
  
Théoden was slowly pacing the floor, deciding what to do. Finally he paused and looked back at the small group, who were watching him, waiting patiently for his decision.  
  
"Let them come." He said strongly before hastening outside to view his people and their refuge. "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms, to be ready for battle for nightfall. We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the deeping wall or set foot inside the Hornburg." Théoden continued.  
  
Isarwien sighed quietly to herself. As great a king Théoden was, he did not know what he was facing, and what was to come. She did. She had seen what would happen.even though it be only little pieces of the battle.  
  
"This is not a rabble of mindless Orcs! These are Uruk-hai. Their armour is thick and their shields broad." Gimli informed the king, beginning to anger slightly at the King's own hazy vision.  
  
Théoden turned to Gimli, angry at the dwarf's outburst at him. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep. They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Sauruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be resown. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."  
  
Isarwien could not contain herself any longer. "There will not be any walls." She paused before continuing, not thinking about what she was saying. "Fire can and will undo stone. it is what will come to pass." She finished; lowering her voice so as the spectators around them - the people of Rohan - would not hear her. Isarwien glanced at Théoden, then at Legolas.  
  
Legolas saw something in Isarwien's eyes that never before had he seen. Grief. He knew that, as the grandchild of Galadriel, she had the Gift of Sight. She had seen what would come about and he searched her eyes with his own, looking for an answer. What had she seen? He found nothing other than sorrow and trouble. But, amongst the hurt, was strength. She would not allow her feelings to show, especially not at such a time as this for she was looked upon as a symbol of hope, a guiding light and an inspiration. Seeing the one he loved in such distress made Legolas' heart bleed and he wished for nothing more than to be able to take her in his arms and comfort her; but he couldn't. Not in the company of the King, and whilst they were discussing the battle which would descent upon them in too short a while.  
  
Isarwien tore her eyes away from Legolas and looked at the King, regretting the words she had spoken in anger. She would not apologise, but not because of her proud demeanour that she had inherited from her mother. She would not ask for forgiveness, for she was not wrong, even though she had not meant to say what she had. Sauruman's puppet, Grima Wormtongue, knew of Helm's Deep's one weakness. A small opening in the deeping wall that allowed water to pass through into the interior of the fortress. He would inform Sauruman of this, who would use whatever way he thought best, to bring down Helm's Deep. Fire. It was no use explaining this to Théoden. What was there that they could do? She could not prevent events from happening - only delay them. What would be would be and she, nor anyone else, could change that. It would only worry them further and they would forever be on the lookout for any sign of fire, instead of concentrating fully on defending Helm's Deep and the people of Rohan.  
  
Isarwien continued, her voice gentle and calm, full of wisdom. "They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people. They will not rest until the last child is dead."  
  
"What would you have me do?!" Théoden turned sharply and brought his face up to the elven maiden's, speaking forcefully to her. She knew his mind was in turmoil; she could feel it. "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end to be worthy of remembrance!" It was at that moment that Isarwien began to understand the King. H e was proud, and wished for he and his people to die, if that was to happen, in glory, and in battle. He would not have them run from battle or cower away. He was doing what he felt was best for his people - and not himself.  
  
"Send out riders, my lord. You must call for aid." Aragorn suggested, knowing that it would be hopeless, but he had at least tried.  
  
"And who will come? Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead." Théoden said bitterly, stood before Aragorn, and referring to Legolas, Isarwien and Gimli.  
  
"Gondor will answer." Aragorn continued lightly.  
  
"Gondor?" Théoden spat out the name. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon.No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone."  
  
Théoden took another look at the company before turning and heading back through the gate, calling orders to his guards as he went.  
  
"Get those who cannot fight into the caves."  
  
"We need more time to lay provisions for a siege, Lord."  
  
"There is no time. War is upon us!"  
  
"Secure the gate!"  
  
~ * ~  
  
"Isarwien, you must go into the caves." Legolas told her once they were alone. They were stood on the deeping wall, looking out over the land which would soon become a battlefield.  
  
"I will fight." Isarwien replied, not looking at her partner or committing to the subject.  
  
Legolas turned to the elven maiden. "You should be with the rest of the women and children. It will be too dangerous for you to fight."  
  
Isarwien felt anger boil up inside of her. "And you would rather lock me up in a cage and leave me to die?!" She exclaimed, hurt that he would suggest such a thing. "I am different from them, Legolas. You know that. You have seen me fight, and I am just as capable, if not more so, than most of the soldiers you see before you. I would rather die than have a mother loose her son." She continued softly, trying to make him see everything from her aspect.  
  
Legolas sighed out of frustration. She was right, and he could not deny it. "Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor. Cormlle naa Tanya tel'raa." ("I know your strength in battle. Your heart is that of the lion.")  
  
"Then you must let me fight." Isarwien turned to face Legolas; her weird and wonderful silver eyes pleading with his summer sky blue ones.  
  
"Isara," Legolas called her by his nickname for her, "Can you not see? I love you, and I would be lost if anything happened to you. I would not risk your life for middle-earth."  
  
Isara turned away from Legolas abruptly, not wanting him to see the crystal clear tears that threatened to spill and stain her bronzed porcelain skin. "I love you also, but I must fight." She said, the tone of her voice betraying her desperation. Her face was hot and wet, tears tarnishing the unblemished fair skin.  
  
Legolas moved swiftly around Isarawien, so that he was in front of her. He held the women, who looked no more than twenty, but was in fact two thousand, one hundred and ninety seven years old, in his strong arms. One arm was wrapped around her slender waist, holding him tightly against him, whilst the other cradled her head against his chest. There they stood, in silence, upon the deeping wall, until the time came where they would have to ready for battle. Isarwien had long ceased crying and was content with the silence, no words being needed between the couple. "Cuamin linduva yassen megrille." ("My bow will sing with your sword.") Legolas told Isara softly, before kissing the top of her head.  
  
She looked up at him and smiled, then reached up and kissed him feverishly; the reason for her passion being the long months they had been separated from one another and the fact he had given his blessing for her to fight alongside him. He didn't know how much it meant for her to be able to be at the battle. She needed to be there. She had to say goodbye.  
  
"Come, we must ready ourselves for the battle. Have you armour?" Legolas asked Isarwien, steering her back to the interior passages of the fortress. She nodded and they entered the stables where, by Araniel, was a small but bulky package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Isarwien bent down and picked it up and Legolas showed her to a place where she could change her clothes, and ready herself. He waited outside patiently, where other men - villagers mainly - were being given weapons; bows and arrows; axes; swords etc. Shortly Aragorn and Gimli, who were looking around at the sight before their eyes, joined him.  
  
"Farmers, farriers, stable boys. These are no soldiers." Aragorn said, dropping a sword he had been holding.  
  
"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli added. "Or too few." Legolas paused before continuing. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes. Boe a hyn: neled herain.dan caer menig?! (And the should be.. 300 against 10 000?!)"  
  
Aragorn glanced at the crowd that was now listening intently to the pair. "Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras. (They have a better chance of defending themselves here than in Edoras.)"  
  
"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen u-'erir ortheri. Natha dagad dhaer! (They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!)" Legolas replied, staring at someone who had been his friend for so many years.  
  
"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted angrily, before looking around and then at Legolas, before turning and walking away from them.  
  
Legolas immediately regretted what he had said and made to follow his friend. Gimli stopped him and said, "Let him go, lad. Let him be."  
  
The elf sighed in repent and that was when he noticed Isarwien, stood by the door, looking at him. He was glad that she did not say anything about what had just happened, even though he knew she had witnessed the event. As she stepped towards he and Gimli, Legolas noticed what she was wearing. It was hardly armour. She was dressed in a flowing white gown made up of many layers of sheer material, the bottom of which, trailed along the floor. The sleeves were made of the same cloth as the skirt and were, in true elven fashion, long, wide and draped. The bodice formed a v shape at the bottom and was covered in rich red velvet, with elven designs carefully embroidered in gold thread about the bottom and the top. Around her head, Isarwien was wearing a half-crown that had been carefully pinned to the top of her head, her hair pulled back into a tight plait. At her side was a sword - carefully crafted by her kin and in workmanship that could be matched by no other - not even Sting, or Glamdring. Isarwien's sword, Maranwe, meaning Destiny, was carefully inscribed with words written in Bethteur, the language spoken by the Teleri, the third and greatest of the three Elf-kindreds of the Great Journey. Bethteur was a language none on Middle-Earth could any longer speak, and so no one knew what the words on Maranwe said. Except Galadriel and Isarwien.  
  
Her other weapons included her bow and arrows, which were tied to her back, along with her short swords. A tiny dagger was hidden on the inside of her wrist, and all items were inscribed with similar words in the same language as those upon Maranwe.  
  
Isarwien smiled at she saw Legolas and Gimli's reactions to her armour. She was dressed as though she were attending a celebration, and partaking in a battle. However, they did not know that the gown she wore, especially the bodice, was wrought with mithril. She would not need armour, for if the spell worked, no enemy would be able to touch her - no their weapons. Legolas also knew that every time she had fought she had been wearing a dress. It seemed to give her more freedom than tights and a tunic would, strange may it be.  
  
* Okay.sorry for dragging on a bit towards the end, but it gives a little bit more information - though not directly - about Isarwien *  
  
~*~Mirelena Isarwien~*~ 


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